A few posts ago, I wrote about failure as a path to success. I said:

“We succeed despite our size or the statistics. We keep learning, and trying. This means some of us are failing productively, using our setbacks as a growth medium.

“Intelligent failure” is a trendy topic, but it is not a new, new thing. (Narrator: there are not, in fact, many new, new things.) The entrepreneurial attitude existed long before business schools charged small fortunes to study it.”

Of course, we don’t ALWAYS succeed despite of our failure. In fact, most often, we do not. We just fail.

And there’s the rub. We need to do better and to do that, we must make better decisions. The process to better decision making is not straightforward, though.

In my research, I came across a number of articles, papers and studies on leadership and decision-making. There was this New York Times magazine story from a bunch or years ago on “decision fatigue.” In that 2011 story, author John Tierney wrote:

So, too much information can be a bad thing. Choice or information overload triggers a biological response: we shut down, mentally. You can picture it can’t you, the prospect’s eyes that glaze over as you recite your features and benefits; the employee who stares into space as you talk them through the company safety or timekeeping policies?

There’s a concept called “Information Density:” the tendency to over-explain, and spew more and more information at your audience, especially when they seem to be not “getting it.” The outcome is what I call Information Duncity: we overwhelm others and ourselves with messages, information and channels believing that more choices are better, when the research says otherwise. It causes temporary stupidity.

But….

Conversely, a lack of information or choices does not make us smarter nor more capable of making better decisions. The opposite is actually true; it can lead to permanent stupidity.

Our country’s founders believed that an informed, educated citizenry was a bulwark of democracy and served to ensure the prosperity for future generations.

Nearly everywhere we turn today that foundational belief is being undermined, whether it be by technology, choice, circumstance, or design.

Adams, Jefferson, Franklin et al are spinning on their pointy heads.

We have reached a point in our cultural evolution where information overload is battling mis-, dis- and lack of information. Truth is an “alternative;” dialogue and discourse is dumbed-down, intentionally focused on the base and banal.

This is deliberate.

Hannah Arendt, who studied totalitarianism, wrote: “The result of a consistent and total substitution of lies for factual truth is not that the lie will now be accepted as truth and truth be defamed as a lie, but that the sense by which we take our bearings in the real world—and the category of truth versus falsehood is among the mental means to this end—is being destroyed.”

Further, Arendt believed: “In an ever-changing, incomprehensible world the masses had reached the point where they would, at the same time, believe everything and nothing, think that everything was possible and nothing was true….” I’d say that describes where we are today.

Choosing to willfully ignore facts, data and learning gained from direct experience is not a path to personal, professional or policy/political success, despite whatever momentary advantages it might confer. It is truly unfortunate that ignorance is not painful to the ignorant.

We must be better defend against this intentional destruction of our societal moorings through the conscious and continuing erosion of our intellectual integrity.

Let’s be smarter. It’s the winning choice.

I’m back from my all-too-brief respite and doing my best to stay marginally attached for another day.

Today brings a TV interview. Tomorrow a swanky adult birthday gathering. On tap for Sunday is a local history lecture and a performance by the Albany Symphony.

Then reality: the mad dash to our fiscal year end on June 30 begins.

I’ll be back next week with new fresh hell.

Y’all didn’t keep yourselves out of trouble, now did ya?

* * *

From “A culture of…”

My work at Habitat for Humanity fills me with constant reminders that the national divisions that are amplified through social media are much more muted at the local level. This is not pretending that real division does not exist. Far from that.

These differences are much diminished or absent when people are brought together in service. Raising rafters, painting walls, laying floors, donating used furnishings to fund home building: communities across the country are doing this every day. Together. It is how community is built.

Folks who are red, blue, black, white, straight, gay, tall, short, thin, chubby, young and old help fund and build thousands of homes for their neighbors, all across America and throughout the world. They are building more than infrastructure. They are making a statement.

From “Time Passages:”

“Orwell warned us that “who controls the past controls the future.” This is not only true of the authoritarian states he was describing, but also to each of us personally. We each decide what our history is, to suit our need. We have the power to alter unwanted history; to create narratives that are more acceptable internally and externally. Both sides of the political aisle are guilty of this, and we contribute through instinctual and algorithm-fueled biases.”

Taking some time away with my bestie to do some recon and relaxation.

Will reprise some prior posts, quotes and thoughts to keep y’all entertained.

Don’t let things get messed up while we’re gone. 🫤

* * *

From “Tethered:”

We cannot go back to the future. We never do, despite the wishes and intentions of some in our societies. Progress, as slow, uneven and painful as it can be, is the long-term trend of humanity. History proves this. It is why some choose to alter it.

My hope for the year ahead is that, even as public actions get more inhumane, and they likely will, more of us resist the desire to seek sanity and comfort by “peacing out.”

From The Gift:”

“My dear,

In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love.

In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.

In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm.

I realized, through it all, that…

In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.

And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.

Truly yours,

Albert Camus

I was stomping around some open fields, more than a hundred acres of them, with a group of folks last week, taking stock of some land that may become a future site for a collaborative building project.

We are seeing, as spring finally takes hold in the northeast, not only a metaphorical thawing, but also a brightening of spirit and opening up of possibilities. As 2026 has progressed, several opportunities have come into focus, where just months ago there were none.

This is in stark contrast to the darkening of the overall mood of many fellow citizens, as everyday life has become more expensive, increasingly chaotic, and seemingly beyond the average Joe or Jane’s control.

We see this in so many ways: regular gas climbing above $4 per gallon in most states; the price of a typical Easter basket is nearly 40% higher than in 2020, and as the spring real estate selling season starts, housing prices are increasingly beyond the reach of most first time home buyers.

According to a study released last fall by the National Association of Realtors, first-time home buyers accounted for a record low 21% of purchasers in its latest market study. And the age of the typical first-time buyer was 40 years old.

In our neck of the woods, the numbers are even more numbing. Our average-wage workers are practically shut out of the housing market, for rentals and for homes to buy. I have written about the stats before here and here. We are literally shutting family forming residents out of our communities.

It is double-plus ungood. And not getting better. Our political class seems to have decided that serving their constituents’ needs is less rewarding than catering to their corporate donors. Thus, social programs are being eviscerated, even when the evidence shows (as it repeatedly does) that social spending reduces poverty, improves health outcomes and generates a positive economic return. Frustratingly, far too many citizens have given into apathy and given away their agency to those who are doing them actual harm.

Far too many still believe in false and disproven myths that continue to drive economic and social policy. That “poor” or needy is a personal and moral failure. They fail to see that the system actually works against those who fall behind as so many are now doing.

I believe that the struggles of so many of us, all across the nation, are just now beginning to coalesce into action. You saw it in the growing protests and rallies across the country. I see it every day in the work I do. In the form of a growing number of people who are donating time, money and energy to changing the system in meaningful ways in their communities. In the new ideas and collaborations that are springing up; in the officials, community activists and organizations who are working together to find new ways to break the logjam.

One example is the Hudson Valley Alliance for Housing and Conservation, a collaboration of affordable housing organizations and land trusts who are working together to find ways to enable communities to both build needed housing and protect the environment.

An example of that work in action is below. This seminar attracted scores of municipal planning officials, planners, developers and community looking to find ways to break the status quo.

Collaboration and interaction: it may not yet be making headlines. It is not sexy or click-baity enough to go viral.

But it is real, and taking firm root and spreading. Eyes and minds are opening and creating new possibilities.

🌺

I’ve been told that I won’t live forever.

Not directly, nor by my doctors, though they have previously expressed concerns.

The alarmist messages have been coming from the myriad pundits, prophets, coaches and evangelists of the so-called wellness and longevity movement. One cannot escape being told that we are not doing enough to achieve personal immortality.

We seem to be fixated on “fitness” even as vast swaths of our American populace grow ever more unfit and unwell. One author even calls it an “epidemic” in its own right. It certainly does seem to be an obsession for many, especially among the upper strata of our society.

News flash: no one has ever gotten out of this place alive.

Not the ones with the most money, or best looks, or who’ve spent the most time on the Stairmaster, or who were good to children and puppies. And thankfully, neither have the bad actors, grifters, misanthropes, misers, despots and asshats.

So, I’m cool with what the future holds. It’s very, very democratic.

Yes, I’d like to age as gracefully as possible for as long as possible. Genetics and earlier life choices will likely have more to say about that than anything I do now, at the cusp of 67. Still, I’m working at it. I am living a healthier lifestyle than I used to; more active, better food choices, more conscious about managing what currently ails me. I have no intention of going into eternal darkness any time soon.

And I don’t fear what comes next any more than I dwell on what came before.

Here’s the outcome that I do fear: a long, healthy and fulfilling life has become a privilege that is unattainable to a growing swath of Americans.

The system is broken and working (as designed?) to benefit the few rather than the masses. As a result, there is an ever-growing disparity between how many people live — are allowed and able to live, actually — and what even well-intentioned policymakers prescribe.

This:

• We are going backwards on previously settled public health and medical recommendations (see: vaccines)

• Obesity and diabetes rates are continuing to rise

• American adolescents are less active and fit (and more poorly educated) then ever before.

We keep allowing the real and most impactful policy actions to be dismantled, defunded or not even considered. We make judgments rather than create solutions. We reward avarice, not justice.

Here’s the new American economic reality: Financial insecurity + cultural stress = poor outcomes.

Adam Smith, the father of economics, whose “Wealth of Nations” was published 250 years ago, did not envision a capitalist system that was rigged for the upper class. Smith believed capitalism needed a conscience and that power concentrated in fewer hands was a danger to economic and civic freedom.

He probably would not recognize the system practiced today in the US as his creation. For it is not; it is more corporatism than capitalism. Smith believed in fairness, regulatory protections, workers’ rights and the duty of the prosperous to share their gains for the public good, that people have education, healthcare and shelter. He claimed that opportunities were not luxuries, but the foundation of a functioning republic. In fact, he wrote: “No society can surely be flourishing and happy of which by far the greater part of the numbers are poor and miserable. ”

Are we returning to life which was, in the words of 17th century philosopher Thomas Hobbes, “poor, nasty, brutish, and short.”

The choice is ours. We must make better choices. Individually and collectively.

This weekend, join a No Kings march and protest the growing inhumanity, inequality and injustice that is pervading our society.

A healthier and more prosperous future is ours to create.

The first rule of holes, attributed to a variety of folks, is:

“If you find yourself in a hole, stop digging.”

It is not a commonly followed prescription these days. These days, many people and organizations tend to try to power through a problem. Sometimes this works, more often it does not.

It is rare that an individual or organization will take a step back, assess and, if needed, change course. (See War, Iran: the Quagmire.)

Stubbornness Positivity is part of organizational and human DNA. Even if it doesn’t come naturally, positivity is certainly expected, and in some cases even demanded. Few are hired or compensated for managing the status quo. There is no growth trajectory for caretaking. Negativity destroys relationships.

But, as I have opined before, relentless optimism also isn’t a viable strategy and it certainly isn’t a sustainable operating plan. When troubles come, they usually emerge from the blind side. And because they are unexpected, operating without a playbook often exacerbates problems by fostering a mindset of “same old same old” of the things that led to the trouble. Those that do not follow the first law of holes and instead dig in and down. They haven’t planned; there is no exit strategy. They become stuck.

Because of this, many times a drama also becomes a crisis, and creates more damage than the unexpected event alone would have done, if simply acknowledged and addressed.

Successful planning is grounded in a rational and realistic assessment of past, current and future states. It provides well-thought through options for when things go sideways (see Eisenhower quote above.)

Realism is key. Quite often that point of view cannot be brought forward from within an individual or organization. There are too many existing biases, and personal experiences that obscure objective reality.

A good facilitator and a culture of open dialogue can effectively break down biases and create opportunities.

We recently concluded a months-long process to create a new 3-year strategic plan, which focused on building upon the success of our prior plan. We had an excellent facilitator, who took our planning team through a comprehensive exercise that reality-tested our present state, external environment, and hopes for the future.

The plan will guide us through 2028. It is evolutionary, and that is good.

It begins by acknowledging what came before, and states a clear objective:

“Having established and begun work toward an ambitious vision during the 2023-2025 strategic plan, Columbia-Greene Habitat for Humanity now seeks to fulfill that vision through development of its capacity to build, its community partnerships, and its organizational foundations.”

This objective setting aligns with our broader, mission-based vision:

“We envision thriving communities where homeownership is an attainable dream and safe, efficient, affordable homes anchor lives and neighborhoods. These homes serve as a source of pride and possibility for residents, communities, and our region. Together with partners, we are building this future.”

The plan then lays out three primary objectives for the organization to attain by the end of 2028 as the anchors to executing our plan:

• CGHFH operates as an effective small development company.

• CGHFH sustains the partnerships needed to advance its mission.

• CGHFH has the financial and organizational capacity necessary for a secure and resilient future.”

Over the next several months, we will be bringing several new initiatives on line that are on-plan. We will be building on the foundation we set several years ago, and which we have now evolved to adapt to the new opportunities and challenges that have emerged since.

Per the plan: we dug down, then built up. Now we are about to step up.

Our first Rural Starter Home is now ready for a family. Below is a beautiful video shot for us by local professionals who donated their work to support this project. Our community continues to be generous in their gifts. People — the beautiful, contradictory, diverse spectrum of humanity — provide the heart and soul and sweat and funding that drives our mission forward and builds the foundation for our ability to serve others.

Meanwhile, we are moving along on two other projects: the construction of our new model home/administrative offices, and our whole-house renovation. Pics below.

Looking ahead to Spring, we are closing in on finalizing the acquisition of properties that will keep us busy for the next handful of years. One is another whole house rehab, and two others are vacant land parcels that will support multiple homes built in small clusters. We are hopeful that each of these will be finalized before summer.

It will be transformational for us to be able to chart out the next half-decade or so with more clarity and certainty than has ever been the case. We have spent the last number of years scurrying like crabs trying to find parcels to build on, as the flow of donated land and rehabilitation projects all but stopped.

It will also be transformational for us to build multiple homes per year in one location. We have planned for and built the capacity to be able to do so over the past several years. We are ready. I believe that our communities are also ready to embrace the changes necessary to enable more housing to be built for those all but shut out of opportunities for home ownership.

These nascent opportunities are noteworthy in that each of these have been made possible through collaboration. They would not have come into being by dint of our own effort alone. They are the result of tending and tilling relationships: with other community service organizations, donors and investors, municipal officials and other interested and active citizens. In some cases, the nurturing has taken years to flower. These opportunities are also the result of showing the proof of our vision: the innovation and quality of the homes we are building and the lives we are changing. And by speaking up and out about the perils of doing nothing.

In May, we will be showcasing all of that, as we host a community celebration at our own new home. We will be honoring and celebrating our past, present and future, and those who have collaborated to make change possible.

If you happen to be in the neighborhood, we’d love to see you.

I slipped on ice in our office parking lot and badly fractured both the tibia and fibula in my left leg. I now hold the honor of having broken the same leg three times: 1975, 1999 and 2022.

This last gasp occurred on a Friday morning, just before 9 am. We rented our office and ReStore space, and through use and landlord neglect, the parking lot often resembled a moonscape. This day it was strewn with ice filled potholes and rink-worthy icy patches.

After hitting the ground, I remember thinking, through the waves of intense, throbbing pain: “this is not good.” The parking lot was largely empty; except for a couple of vehicles at the far end of our low-slung metal building. Somehow, I had the presence of mind to hit the panic alarm on my car key. Eventually, someone driving by heard it, saw me, pulled up and called an ambulance. Two co-workers also came. It was cold. I asked them for blankets. I remember the blankets smelling musty.

Apparently, as later relayed by one of the colleagues (I have no recollection of of this), I kept my wits about me and calmly gave instructions to direct whatever was going on that day. I ended up being out of the office for two months.

Because of the severity of the trauma (and an intervening weekend), it took four days for the first surgery to occur, and then another week before the second and final round of fixing. In between, my leg was supported by an erector set to keep it stable and reduce the swelling. I now live with a permanent collection of titanium parts: rods, plate and screws as noted in the picture above.

The initial month, the first two weeks of which were spent in the hospital/rehab, were pretty awful. Being just post-Covid, the staff at the hospital and rehab center were negligent stretched thin. Getting assistance for my basic needs was a challenge. If not for the care and diligence of my beloved, it would have been even more horrific. I was bed- and wheelchair confined for the first month of recovery.

It could have been much worse. I had great support from family, friends and coworkers. I had good health insurance (it became a worker’s compensation claim) and all bills and needs were taken care of, if not immediately, then eventually. Having been through it before, I knew it would pass.

I did pass and I healed. I am neither disfigured nor am I permanently disabled. The leg will never be back to what it was, and there are certain things (like walking 18 holes of golf; or power walking a few miles on hard surfaces) that I cannot now do. But I am ok with that. If not in love with my fate, I have come to a peace with it.

I share this story not to enlist sympathy, but as a reminder that we all face unexpected challenges. Daily. Some of them are small annoyances, some are much more impactful. Our attitude about these challenges largely determines their impact.

Studies show that attitude shapes behavior. They are often used synonymously, but attitude is a cognitive construct, shaped by internal and external influences. It is how we evaluate a situation. Behavior is an action; how we respond to our assessment of that situation. Attitude drives behavior, even if they are not always consistent nor correlated.

Attitudes are often, if not always, a learned tendency. They are shaped and formed. Thus, attitudes can be changed.

Far too many of us are captured by our attitudes: “we cannot make a difference; our voices don’t matter; our vote doesn’t count,” and lock in a negative outcome as a result.

For meaningful change to arise and hold, more of us need to view the current challenges as one that can be met, with a determined attitude if not a positive one. I see this happening.

More and more of us are pushing back on sociopathic behaviors and the negative biases of social media. They are changing their attitudes and their behaviors. They are protecting themselves and others.

Get up.

Join them.

Make the change we need.

Stand.

Meteorological winter ends tomorrow, February 28, thank goodness.

Astronomically, spring lags behind by a few weeks. I am ready for this winter to end. It has seemed interminable.

I did not use to mind winter at all. I used to revel in it…enjoyed the cold weather and snow, and all that. I used to hike and camp in it…in the Catskills and Adirondacks. In January.

As I got older, I got over it. I now much prefer the lighter, milder shade of winter we had been experiencing in the Northeast, even while fully aware of the longer-term implications of climate change.

At the cusp of 67, I desire sun and warmth over cold and dark. Maybe it’s the wisdom of age, maybe it’s my tendency to injure various parts myself more frequently in the cold weather, maybe it is the realization that as I age, I am less inclined to “just go with the flow” weather wise. I am now more reluctant in general to put up with things that I find uncomfortable.

This winter has indeed been an uncomfortable experience.

But enough about the weather, which we cannot change except by waiting or relocating.

This winter also brought into cold clarity the immense challenge that we face as a nation in fixing what ails us. There are many who doubt we can turn this around.

If “hope is the thing with feathers,” then many are feeling plucked. Understandably so.

My beloved says I’m naturally a “glass is half empty” kind of guy (and then adds that the glass contains acid.)

The half full/half empty aphorism is supposed to reflect whether you are an optimist or pessimist in how you view problems and therefore, your approach to reacting to life’s challenges. Whatever.

I would testify in court to this: I have never intentionally played, sung nor listened to “The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow,” except for when forced to attend my niece’s community theater production of Annie. Guilty as charged, your honors.

While I fully acknowledge my grumpy DNA, I do not consider myself a pessimist. I do not generally view things through a negative lens. I don’t believe that one can live a satisfying and successful life with a negative mindset.

I have written before about the “Stockdale Paradox,” popularized by author Jim Collins in his book Good to Great. It posits that you must have utter faith that you will accomplish your goal, while also being ruthlessly honest in your appraisal of the situation you face.

It is OK to feel despair, to growl and rage at injustice. That can only be temporary, though. We must take our inner anger and make it productive, to avoid setting a negative outcome in motion.

We must act. Action signifies one’s belief that you - and we - will prevail. In the words of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks:

So, rather than optimistic, color me realistically hopeful, despite it all.

The work I do helps me remain so. I see people coming together to try and help build a better life for others, and therefore a better community for themselves. We are witnessing a rebuilding of hope through faith. Faith in each other, in individuals rather than in institutions or supernatural things.

People may have lost faith in our society at large’s ability to address, much less solve, their day to day problems. Instead, we are witnessing a slow but strengthening re-emergence of hope in the power of people taking responsibility for each other.

This faith and hope is visible and growing. From the streets of Minneapolis, to the neighborhoods and towns across the country, to the voting booths where special elections have been held, we are seeing determination and hope and progress in action.

We are rising in the warm embrace of this hope in action. Spring is emerging just in time.

I am a failure.

If you are breathing, it is likely that you are too.

It is time to celebrate; we are in great company!

While our winner-take-all culture may be shouting at us that everybody loves only a winner, and our Whiner-in-Chief calls those who disagree with him “losers,” most of us fail, some repeatedly so (👆).

And that’s good news. One, because it means you are trying, striving, attempting something (hopefully new.) Two, because we grow from our failures.

The “failure is not an option” mindset may be appropriate at NASA or in life-and-death situations (but is sadly not always the outcome), it is way too restrictive a mentality for most organizations to embrace as standard operating procedure.

Those that do not embrace innovation and a growth mindset get sclerotic. The business graveyard is littered with corpses of once-thriving organizations that died because they could not innovate, embrace change or envision and execute a different future. In the current parlance, they were “disrupted.”

The familiar names include a “Who’s Who” of iconic late 20th century names: Kodak, Xerox, Blackberry, Nokia, Blockbuster.

True fact: the failure rate among businesses of all sizes is extremely high. Fully half of all businesses fail within the first five years.

And yet, we are a nation of small businesses, accounting for over 43% of the US economic output. That percentage has declined from nearly 50%, as corporate consolidation, among other factors, creates monopolistic bigger enterprises. Nonetheless, small businesses (less than 500 employees) employ more than half of the private sector workforce. In our twin-county service area in NY, around 80% of organizations employ less than 10 people.

We succeed despite our size or the statistics. We keep learning, and trying. This means some of us are failing productively, using our setbacks as a growth medium.

“Intelligent failure” is a trendy topic, but it is not a new, new thing. (Narrator: there are not, in fact, many new, new things.) The entrepreneurial attitude existed long before business schools charged small fortunes to study it.

Failure is as much a mindset as it is an outcome.

Dr. Stephen Covey, who authored “The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People,” described what he called the “abundance mentality.” He posited that those who saw limitless rather than limited possibilities were more likely to succeed in the long run.

Among the attributes of the abundance mentality that Dr. Covey described are:

• Focus on opportunities

• Think big and embrace risk

• Long-term focus

• Willing to share knowledge

• Investment with a return

• Trust the process

• Focus on the customer

• Willingness to learn from others

• If I succeed and you succeed, we all succeed (win/win)

In our little affordable housing operation, we have grown as we have adopted a more flexible and forgiving way of operating: looking at challenges as opportunities to innovate and grow from. We take risks (calculated ones, to be sure) and they pay off. Not always, but more often than not.

We have set and met some big goals and are on the cusp of achieving more. That’s because we allow ourselves to take prudent risks and accept that there will be bumps and potholes in the path we are taking, rather than see them as an excuse to not venture forth.

What have you failed at? And what did you gain as a result?

What can you teach us?

I thought I would not have much bandwidth to compose a post this week, but sorting through stories, conversations and pictures from the “Habitat on the Hill” Federal advocacy event re-energized me to capture my thoughts before they were lost in the return to the day-to-day.

The week was a tale of juxtaposition:

• On the one hand in the Habitat gathering and associated meetings there were tales of progress, words of hope, acts of faith, building of community, marveling at peace walks, stories of inclusion, diversity and equity, divides being crossed, and hands reaching across aisles. Promises were made that are meant to be kept.

• On the other hand out on the streets of Washington and in the Congress, there were spectacles of different forms: Police and military presence, endless caravans of large black SUVs, angry demonstrations, words of discord and division, shouts and murmurs of anger and divisiveness, contempt from public servants, closed minds and seemingly empty hearts. Good faith in short supply.

The duality of our current time, and of my own existence, was brought into sharp focus…bracing me like a cold plunge. It is so, so easy to get seduced by the maelstrom. To be sucked into the unnatural, self-reinforcing cycle of angst and despair; to feel hopeless and helpless. The digital era it is indeed a dark force, a trap. Entering is easy and oh, so seductive.

If not for the work I am doing in this late stage of my life and career, and the colleagues and peers that I am so fortunate to be surrounded by, I might have succumbed, and abandoned hope. Cast it aside as a concept that modern times had rendered obsolete. Too many are living a life of “get what you can and blow the bridge behind you.” Individualism is ascendant and prioritized. Collectivism is belittled, sneered at.

It was not so much the words I heard that moved me, although there was much powerful and evocative testimony. It was the actions that were showcased, again and again. Acts of collective triumph. Of people pulling others up. Of hope triumphant and radiant.

I am not one of religious faith, but I left “the swamp” with a renewed sense of faith in people, especially those powered by principle and conviction. Refreshed by the evidence that individuals coming together in collective voice and action can make great change. (See: Minneapolis.)

I am a cynical old New Yorker, but as I heard witnessed remarkable stories of accomplishment despite seemingly impossible challenges, I absorbed hope. Hope in the moving declarations of proof that there are indeed people of courage in every nook, cranny, city, town and exurb who are standing up and speaking up, but more importantly, lifting others up. And adding them to the movement.

These were not stories of smooth paths and easy wins. They were stories of overcoming many obstacles and perseverance through collective, collaborative effort. They were demonstrable proof that “together we can go far.”

This is how we move forward. Together.

Get up.

Get out.

Get involved.

Reach out to others.

Bring them along.

Commit.

Connect.

Assist.

Defeat the darkness.

Be a beam of light.

Next week, I will be joining 500 or so Habitat for Humanity colleagues, homeowners, affordable housing advocates and other supporters for our annual “Habitat on the Hill” legislative meetings. Looking at the forecast, we are more likely to be donning Bernie Sanders’ mittens and storm coat than shirt-sleeves, as we did a couple of years back.

“Habitat on the Hill” is an opportunity to meet with federal legislators and their staffs. While, like politics, housing is very much local, the federal government has a huge impact on housing, through regulation, tax policy and funding. Connecting federal policy to local issues is an important part of the dialogue that occurs. Each Habitat affiliate has an opportunity to meet with their elected representatives in their offices. As a first-timer in the halls of Congress a couple of years ago, I can personally attest to the powerful effect of meeting face-to-face in the Capitol.

These meetings also give us an opportunity to humanize the issues surrounding the housing affordability crisis. Often there are Habitat families in these meetings, who personally describe the impact of homeownership on their lives. We’ve held such meetings at our offices with our congressman, and it proved very helpful for our partner family as well as the representative.

Advocacy — the direct engagement with stakeholders to communicate and agitate for change in the status quo — is a powerful tool. It is also a challenge for small organizations, especially a loose confederation like Habitat operations, to engage in effectively. Our umbrella organization, Habitat for Humanity International, has made gains in providing a more effective structure of support at the national, state and local levels.

The reception we receive on Capitol Hill is likely to be chilly in some aspects (money), but the work that we do in communities across the country and around the world is generally warmly embraced by our elected representatives.

Funding from the Federal government for affordable housing is critically important to affordable housing development. According to the Housing Solutions Lab: “Federal programs finance new construction, invest in traditionally under-served neighborhoods, support home repairs, and help low-income tenants pay their rent. The impact of these resources can be multiplied, as federal dollars are often used to leverage additional state, local, or private funds for affordable housing.”

A vast majority of Federal support for housing comes in the form of tax breaks and incentives for home ownership, including mortgage interest and property tax deductions. The support for housing supply is mostly focused on rental property development, through low-income tax credits to developers and housing vouchers for renters.

And still, there is a vast shortage of affordable housing across the nation. The data show that there are no areas in the US - no city, county, region, or state - where a family of four earning minimum wage can afford a two-bedroom rental apartment, much less own a home.

In NY, one in five households spend more than half of their income on housing. Workers in 80% of the largest occupations in NY State cannot afford one bedroom housing without being cost burdened.

Affordability remains a top issue facing Americans, and rural, urban, and suburban communities nationwide are experiencing this historic loss of affordable home ownership opportunities, which is driving the overall crisis.

The shortage of starter homes in particular impedes workers’ access to job markets with economic opportunities, holds back local economies, exacerbates the wealth gap, and keeps millions of would-be home buyers in the rental market. 

But there is hope. For the first time in recent decades, there is growing momentum in Congress to tackle the issue. Our advocacy has helped make that happen in Congress.

Both the House and Senate have taken important steps in advancing bipartisan housing legislation – the Senate through the ROAD to Housing Act (S. 2651) and the House through the Housing for the 21st Century Act (H.R. 6644). Congress must keep this momentum going, work to combine these two packages and pass a bipartisan housing package as soon as possible that will take meaningful action to help address our nation’s housing crisis and increase supply. 

This year, my colleagues and I will also be pressing for action on Habitat’s legislative priority, the Homeownership Supply Accelerator, a plan designed to rapidly increase construction of affordable homes in the United States.

The Homeownership Supply Accelerator aims to create a source of flexible financial assistance that supports property acquisition, new home construction and rehabilitation, and other financial barriers faced by for-profit and non-profit developers serving modest-income home buyers.

We are all in. We are moving forward. We are building better lives and stronger communities, one home at a time.

As readers of this space know, my organization, Columbia-Greene Habitat, is already innovating on the supply-side through our Rural Starter Home Initiative.

Working together, we are loud, proud and unstoppable.

The first month of the year has whizzed by. We have made the most of the cold, snowy, turbulent start to the year by keeping pace.

• We have two homes under construction with one of those nearly done.

• We have begun building the model home/administrative office at our new campus. A construction space will follow.

• We are working to complete the acquisition of new building sites for our Rural Starter Homes within the next few months.

• We are opening home ownership applications for future homes to be built.

• We have a new strategic plan to guide us towards the late 2020s.

The latest data from 2025 show that the Hudson Valley housing crisis — insanity, really — has accelerated. The median home price in Columbia County, NY has more than doubled (+105%) from 2019, to over $527,000, an increase of more than $269,000. In neighboring Greene County, the median house price has increased more than 93%, to $379,000. Inventory of available homes has declined while the affordability gap has surged, prompting continued flight from our communities. New York State has lost more than 200,000 residents since 2020. The state’s population “growth” since the last census ranks last among the 50 states and Washington, DC.

We are on a mission: To create more opportunities for average income individuals and families in Columbia and Greene Counties to own safe, efficient, affordable homes. No one else is doing so. It is up to us to think big and put up homes.

In 2026 we are coming in hot and planning to proceed with continued focus and momentum.

Join us.

Let’s build.

Am I enough?

Are you enough?

Enough of what?

How would we know?

To engage with media today is to be bombarded by scolds telling us a different tale of how we don’t measure up.

We are not:

• Strong enough

• Young enough

• Slim enough

• Healthy enough

• Pretty enough

• Tough enough

• Spiritual enough

• Rich enough

• Political enough

• Detached enough

• Just plain good enough

Who should one believe; those imploring us to be like them and that we need “more, more, more” to do so? Or that little voice inside ourselves saying, “yes, you are enough as is?”

If we are enough as we are, wouldn’t our internal voice ignore these mental space invaders or tell them to shut the hell up and go away?

How on earth did we ever evolve (a debatable fact, I know) if not enough of us were enough something enough to attract a mate, let along raise offspring successfully enough to continue on our genetic destiny?

It’s maddening.

It is also a false narrative.

Stop falling for it.

This is what immersion in media does, these days. Especially social media. It breeds anger; an anger that when directed outwards, rebounds and attaches, like a horcrux. When internalized, it breeds self-conflict and destructive behaviors, a vicious cycle.

We are now a population of marketing targets. With each click, like, comment and engagement we are blissfully and (mostly) ignorantly giving marketers, “influencers” and bad actors the information on our psyches to be used against us. They in turn sow these seeds to offer their elixir for instantaneously solving whatever we are concerned or anxious about at the moment. They make us feel worse about ourselves, so we can spend on solutions that never solve or salve.

This platform while valuable in so many ways, is seemingly heading down the same path that others have opened, and of which I have largely fled. It seems to be embracing algorithms that feed rage and fear; becoming like the others. It too, has been financialized; captured and corrupted.

I see in the feeds a growing cacophony, a cauldron of rage and insult that is drowning out the beauty of the thoughtful writers, independent journalists and concerned citizens who are voicing real truths, exposing horrors and calling for effective action.I can’t help but think this is intentional. It is a global tragedy and it is SOP for tech platforms.

This is our digital life: we are living in a continual “two minute hate.”

It does not need to become our corporeal destiny. We can and must change the plot, the storyline and the ending.

We start by keeping our eyes and minds open, as we read and absorb what’s shown to us here, there and everywhere.

We are smart enough to see through it and turn it down, if not off.

There’s money in engagement, so disengage from the money mechanism. Be more disciplined and discerning. Do not comply.

Tech platforms need us. They need us to sate their own and their investors’ thirst for dollars.

We must stop feeding the beast. We need to be conscious and intentional in our interactions with those who are selling a dishonest illusion of a vision of ourselves.

I am, you are, we are, already enough.

We have immense value.

We must hoard it, and protect it fiercely. It’s ours, not theirs.

(Editor’s note: this post was inspired by the first anniversary of cancelling my Facebook account.)

January 19 marks the 92nd anniversary of my father’s birth. He passed in 2019, at age 85.

I have not written much here about my father. Mostly because I am still sorting him out; making sense of the lessons from his life, loves and struggles.

My perspective remains cluttered with the debris of caring for him during has last few years, when he was descending into dementia, needed institutional care and was physically declining in many ways. I was his primary caregiver, proxy, banker, executor and custodian of all his operating systems. It was not easy and got harder as it progressed.

Every. Step. Of. The. Way.

Many of you have been on the same journey with parents, friends and loved ones. It is a constant struggle to reconcile the reality being faced in the present with the recollection of what has now become past tense. It is a messy process. I am not sure that the ledger of present and past can be reconciled. We do the best we can with the abilities we have.

Below is the obituary I wrote following my dad’s death:

Albert Anthony Bellenchia, (Big Al or Al B to his friends) born and raised in Yonkers, N.Y., passed away on April 19, 2019, at Pine Haven Nursing and Rehabilitation in Philmont, N.Y. He was 85.

Al served his country as a jet mechanic in the Air Force. As a result, no North Koreans ever invaded Georgia. In gratitude, the government added an "L" to his family name. After his retirement from AT&T, he lived in Yorktown Heights, N.Y. before moving further "up the line." He suffered from Alzheimer's disease in his later years. The end came suddenly, and thankfully quickly, accompanied by family.

Al was an avid fan of New York sports, especially his beloved Yankees and Giants. In his younger years, he was an exceptional athlete, making the best of his small size with huge passion and energy. That passion extended to his family. He worked tirelessly to provide for his family, often at two jobs. He overcame adversity and setback by force of will - he simply moved forward. That perseverance - some call it stubbornness - is a legacy he left his offspring.

He was a gentle man in heart and generous in deed. He taught his children to love and to not be afraid to express it. He raised a family of huggers. His great love, Carolann Schreiber Bellenchia, preceded him in death by 24 years. His heart was forever broken, but his spirit was not.

He was a loyal friend, and had a huge circle of male and female accomplices and co-conspirators. Big Al made his presence known wherever he went. He loved to laugh, dance and sing, and bent an elbow on occasion. He played cards, the ponies and threw the bones. He lived his life large, and often loudly, accompanied by a sly grin and a wisecrack. Beneath his crusty exterior though, he was a cupcake.

Albert was the son of Pio and Almerica (Balducci) Belenchia. He had six siblings: Gloria, Robert, Josephine, Ethel, Diane and Rudy. He is survived by four children, Ann Albohn (Frank), Albert E. Bellenchia (Jennifer Wall), Peter Belenchia and Paul Bellenchia (Anita); and seven grandchildren whom he adored and who adored him, Frank Albohn III, Sarah Belenchia Anthony, Melissa Bellenchia, Jessica Bellenchia-Spock, Samuel Bellenchia, Becca Belenchia, and Benjamin Bellenchia. (2026 Addendum: there are now 6 great-grandchildren whom he would have been so happy to have doted on.)

The above, as obituaries should be, is generous and kind. It omits, in deference and respect, some facts.

Big Al had his warts, as we all do. He was self-destructive — his addiction was food — for reasons that I am not sure I will ever understand, but which seem to be genetically-encoded and passed on, in varying degrees, to his heirs. My hope is that those traits recede with each generation.

Family was everything to him, sometimes to a fault. He was the son of an abusive father, and thankfully was not an abuser himself. He did have an explosive temper, which he mostly kept tamped down. Never was that more evident than in the years he helped us cope with my mother’s protracted illnesses. He dealt with a situation no one was prepared for and managed to keep his brood of teenagers and near adolescents cared for. Neither he, nor we, broke, although each of us were deeply wounded and still carry scars.

Pop refused corporate advancement and was content to remain a union worker bee. He worked overnight shifts to earn more money and be around for the kids during the day.

He was not a learned man, and made no pretense of wanting to be. He “knew what he knew.”

He was not interested in expanding himself beyond his waistline. My mother’s feminism rankled him, as did her embrace of diversity: racial, sexual, political and cultural. He was racist, and that caused frequent clashes with her, and me. It certainly led to degrees of estrangement following her passing. And a lot of cleanup duty among his caregivers during his extended institutionalization, when his negative traits became more pronounced.

Life and lives seldom make sense to onlookers.

He showed me both what masculine vulnerability and toxicity look like. And how to deal with both, as well as life’s inevitable disappointments. I acknowledge this and name it with the desire to move on from it. I came back to care for him, after all.

His legacy, in totality, is one of being human. I can live with that.

Happy 92nd, Pop. I will love you until the end.

❤️

I am very connected. Electronically and professionally. Probably more connected than any introvert would choose to be if they were not forced to be.

Alone-ish is my preferred state of being. Not lonely; there’s a vast difference. I enjoy most people’s company; have deep and satisfying personal relationships, and I prefer to work in a collaborative, team-oriented fashion. While I mutter “humans suck” under my breath way too often these days, am in no way misanthropic. Just disappointed.

It is a conundrum really, this needing to be “in it” while also desiring to be more “out of it.”

I believe - in spirit and action - in service and in servant leadership. But these days, I find myself more drained by constant interaction, not energized. And as I have gotten older gained more experience, this has become a progressive situation. There is no doubt in my mind that the current strife locally, nationally and globally contributes to this. My position requires me to be “in the fray,” advocating for our mission and the people and communities we serve. My INFJ-ness forces me to speak up and out.

It is a never-ending struggle. Every. Damn. Day.

I have written elsewhere here that while we have a greater ability to connect and communicate than at any time in human history, it seems that we are as fragmented and disconnected as ever. We are devolving back into tribes. We are becoming unmoored.

I do believe that each of us can actively choose to be connected or not to the extent we desire. Finding the equilibrium, discovering how to be as alone as you need to be, and when you need to be, is more art than science.

Indeed, it is hard to be disconnected when even your refrigerator is chiding you about something. My smart watch is currently my greatest frenemy. (Shhh, don’t tell it; it’s listening.)

And while being connected presents psychic challenges, I refuse to pull in the reins, to lift the covers over my head. And so the inner conflict is likely to continue, drain me emotionally and make me more reactive rather than contemplative; edgier rather than kinder.

We cannot go back to the future. We never do, despite the wishes and intentions of some in our societies. Progress, as slow, uneven and painful as it can be, is the long-term trend of humanity. History proves this. It is why some choose to alter it.

My hope for the year ahead is that, even as public actions get more inhumane, and they likely will, more of us resist the desire to seek sanity and comfort by “peacing out.”

We have to be in it, to win it. And win it we will.

“Were all the geniuses of history to focus on this single theme, they could never fully express their bafflement at the darkness of the human mind. No person would give up even an inch of their estate, and the slightest dispute with a neighbor can mean hell to pay; yet we easily let others encroach on our lives—worse, we often pave the way for those who will take it over. No person hands out their money to passersby, but to how many do each of us hand out our lives! We’re tight-fisted with property and money, yet think too little of wasting time, the one thing about which we should all be the toughest misers.”
- Seneca

* * *

“When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls all silver'd o'er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer's green all girded up in sheaves
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow;
And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.” - Shakespeare

* * *

“Vitality shows in not only the ability to persist but the ability to start over.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald

* * *

“There’s never enough time to do all the nothing you want.”
- Bill Watterson

Happy next year!

Back next week with more 'Fresh thoughts.

It is pre-dawn on Christmas Eve. Awake too early. Again.

The wind is out of the north, gusting and howling, as it has been most of December. The house creaks and shudders. The snow that covered the ground for the better part of the last week is gone. It is cold though. Winter has settled in to stay.

Inside the house is warm. I’ve turned the lights on the tree, and their glow adds a soft coziness. The cat joins me in relaxed restlessness. We are content.

Ho, ho, ho. We are sheltered.

Let it blow.

* * *

“My dear,

In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love.

In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.

In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm.

I realized, through it all, that…

In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.

And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.

Truly yours,

Albert Camus

✌️

‘Tis a week or so before Christmas and a fortnight before the end of the year as I write this. Creatures are still stirring, disquieted by the continued commotion of a nation at unrest. “Miles to go,” I hear it muttering.

In 2025, I lost my glasses, my facial hair and 20+ pounds. Those were the best, and paradoxically, the least, of the losses.

Over the past year, the adage “action speaks louder than words” was often front and center of my mind, and provided color and context to my decisions.

The great essayist, novelist and humanitarian Elie Wiesel once wrote: “we must never fail to protest.” And I get it; sometimes that’s all we can do. But protest alone is never sufficient. Words can compel, they can inspire, and they can change history, but only when they are followed by action.

Quotes and thoughts that sum up the year:

• It “is what it is” and most often that is of our own doing.

• We all suffer; not all of us have grievances.

• If you don’t believe in yourself, few will believe in you.

• What you permit, you promote.

• Cruelty to those with the least is a moral failure.

• Blame is an act of fear and cowardice.

• Scapegoating ≠ solutions.

• In community there is strength only if the community is a just one.

• The loss of a pet can be devastating.

• Upright is a good state of being.

✌️💕🖖

See you in ‘26.

I have written often about the housing crisis in NY’s Hudson Valley and the damning data that shows the depth and breadth of our unrelenting affordability problem. The most recent post is linked here.

Paraphrasing an old Wall Street adage, a market can stay irrational longer than one can stay solvent. Our current housing environment is not rational, especially when it comes to building low-cost, basic housing; the type of housing that underpinned the growth of the middle class. Those facing housing cost burdens or living in inadequate shelter really don’t have time to wait. As a result, we are losing residents in the 35-54 age bracket, the prime earning and family formation years. Our rural communities are declining.

We must aggressively advocate for more rapid action and drive our communities to enable changes in the thinking, systems and opinions that no longer serve the greater good. When community resolve intersects with workable solutions, rapid change can happen. The good news is that we are making progress as more communities and citizens recognize the need for swifter action.

We are doing our part to make it happen. We are ready, willing and able to build more now. Getting there took time and we are now at a tipping point: if we can get our communities to act, progress will accelerate. That’s our goal for the coming year: more progress now.

What follows is a review of what it took to get to us to this moment.

* * *

Our little Habitat for Humanity operation was a pioneer in creating energy-efficient affordable housing. Our the passive-energy townhouses in the the City of Hudson in the early 2010s were the first of their kind in the country. In all, four duplex units were built there, and one each in the Village of Valatie and the hamlet of Ancramdale, for a total of a dozen passive-energy affordable homes built in about a decade.

Covid-19 and its aftermath radically changed the nature of our organization, as it did for so many others. The economics that underpinned our operations — relying on a mostly volunteer-driven organization — no longer worked. Spikes in the cost of construction materials, coupled with supply disruptions, meant that we could no longer fund the type of energy efficient homes we were building and stay solvent.

The migration of people out of NY City into our rural communities poured accelerant on an already hot and supply-constrained housing market. Remote work exacerbated a growing disparity of income and wealth, and crowded out local average-wage residents in the market for goods and services, especially housing. This has not abated.

Foundational aspects of how our organization functioned were also adversely affected, including volunteering, philanthropy, competition for labor, and the donation of land, materials and dollars. The evaporation of inexpensive building sites and low-cost labor through volunteerism became acute challenges.

We were not alone in this new reality: Over the past decade or so, about a third of Habitat affiliates in NY state have ceased to function. Nationwide, the affiliate attrition has also been significant. Many have been smaller operations serving rural areas.

This is where we stood when I took over the executive director’s role in early 2021. Thankfully, we also had many tangible and intangible assets to leverage. And that’s where we focused: a clean sheet of paper, but rebuilding from our strengths.

The strategic plan we developed called for us to build more, and more often, in more communities. It also called for us to innovate, improve our range of services, and to be more active and visible in informing and educating our market about housing facts and potential solutions.

We developed two initiatives to bring our plans to life — “Habitat Helping Hands,” our repair and education program which I have written about here, and our Rural Starter Home Initiative.

Our Rural Starter Home was created to address the fundamental issues I recited above, and to align with NY and federal grant and funding programs which encourage building energy-efficient housing in greater volume.

Working with a local architect, we developed a design that met several criteria:

• Build costs not to exceed $250,000 including well & septic (most of our communities do not have municipal infrastructure.)

• Energy efficient, net-zero ready, and using sustainable materials.

• Flexible design to offer size and space options for a range of family sizes and needs.

• Able to be clustered in light-density developments.

• Scalable, panelized production: capable of being produced on site or in a factory-like setting to offer economies of scale and workforce training opportunities. Easily transportable to building sites.

• Volunteer-friendly (our earlier passive townhouses were not.)

• Affordable at 30% of income (the standard for affordability) for average-wage workers.

In Spring 2024 we broke ground, on a 1/2-acre lot we purchased in an established community of modest ranch-like homes.

Construction started at the NY State Capitol grounds, as part of Habitat NY State’s biennial “Capitol Build Day.” There, some 300 volunteers came together to build the panels for the home, following assembly plans created by our construction team. It became proof of concept that this design could be constructed off-site and easily transported.

Fast forward to Fall 2025 and this house is now complete and waiting for a family. We are making progress on securing site to construct clusters of these homes.

Below are pictures showing our path to progress.

Above, our construction foreman Bud marks the studs where volunteers will fasten the lumber into walls.

May 2024: Volunteers erecting walls on the West Lawn of the NY State Capitol.

Architect Dimitri Brand (left), NY State Assembymember Didi Barrett and me behind a model of the home being framed at Capitol Build Day 2024.

The pre-made panels of the home being offloaded from the NY Capitol onto the build site. All of the panels for the 3 bedroom, 2 bath house frame fit into a 16-foot truck.

Raising the roof, summer 2024.

Windows and doors, spring 2025.

Finished kitchen, fall 2025

Primary bath, fall 2005

Hibernating, December 2025.

There’s more to come in 2026!

Ho, Ho, Hope!